


Charitable Lobbying

by traumschwinge



Category: Iron Man (Movies), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Activism, Explicit Language, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22741678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumschwinge/pseuds/traumschwinge
Summary: Charles has everything he wants. He runs a successful company. His mother is widowed, divorced and sober. His best friend Moira is the coolest woman he'd ever met. He even has hobbies, like stalking and supporting local activist groups anonymously. So when he notices trouble brewing, Moira makes him get involved, leading him back to his boarding school crush as the perfect partner.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Charles Xavier
Comments: 13
Kudos: 24
Collections: X-Men Rare Pairs 2020





	Charitable Lobbying

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [lachatblanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche) in the [xmenrarepairs20](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs20) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> One’s a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. And so is the other one.
> 
> It shouldn’t work, but it does.
> 
> _Not BETA'ed._

It was early on a quiet morning in the office. Charles had arrived to find that between last night and now, nothing urgent had appeared on his desk. At least nothing that required the immediate attention of the CEO of Xavier Genetics. So, instead of getting to work right away, he opened his browser. The newspapers didn’t yield anything interesting to pass his time with. Nor did other online news sites. He briefly thought about spying on his secretary but decided against it. She had signed an affidavit acknowledging he was a telepath and thus might read her thoughts occasionally, doing it on purpose because he was bored was just bad taste.

So he turned to the only interesting reading he could think off that wasn’t jstore or something similar: the blogs of local mutant grassroots projects. It was the usual mix of announcements of upcoming events, recaptures of recent actions, pictures of community drives and the special focus of the particular group. However, in between, Charles thought he was seeing something like a faint pattern shining through every single one of the blogs.

There were a lot more calls for donations recently. Not the usual, “donate-your-time-for-your-community”, calls. No, some had entire weekly posts dedicated to asking more and more desperately for money, “every dollar helps”. Now that he was actually looking, Charles spotted depressingly empty progress bars in each blog’s sidebar, with donate buttons beneath and captions like “rent for the community room” or “running costs”. One even had “help us stay afloat to the end of the week!!!!1!!!”.

Horrified and a little concerned, Charles clicked himself through the blogs again, making sure each and every one of the donation drives reached twice their goal. He knew it was definitely not enough, but it would buy a little time to look for lasting solutions. And what good was a large personal fortune and inherited wealth if he didn’t spend at least some of it in ways that mattered.

~~~

“It’s the rents,” Moira informed Charles over lunch. “Most charities and community projects and so on don’t actually own their rooms, you know? And they managed to tough out the skyrocketing rents for a while, but normal mortals’ purses are limited. Eventually, even the most engaged activist has to eat and pay their own rent.” She speared some of her salad before waving waving the full fork at Charles instead of eating it right away. “The moment the community centers start dying the mutant community around here will die. And people will be pushed out of their neighborhoods because they can’t afford it and lose all kinds of important social interpersonal connections.”

Charles tilted his head. She was completely right, however… “I don’t think your new boyfriend is good for you.”

“He’s probably insane and not my boyfriend. Can’t date a man that only thinks of work or political activism. You can only fuck him,” Moira stated matter of factly. “But I do pick up a thing or two from him.”

“Right,” Charles conceded. “What do you actually like about him, then?”

“His cock, obviously.” She was smirking in a way that told Charles that it was only part of the truth but he left it at that. He didn’t need to know everything Moira did and didn’t do with her not a boyfriend activist boyfriend.

Charles cleared his throat. “Back to the problem, or rather, possible solutions. Could I just throw money at it to make it go away?”

“Probably, but not for long. And I don’t think they’d want to be dependent entirely on you, either.”

“Right, forgot that I’m a rich evil capitalist,” Charles sighed. “Making my money with the suffering of many and the exploitation of the even more.”

“Exactly,” Moira grinned. “You’ll have to use your rich evil capitalist super powers for good instead of evil. Think like a bad person, Charles.”

Charles frowned at her. He didn’t like it, it came far too easily to him. He was practically a natural at thinking like part of the greedy egoist elite. After all, he’d had two of the best people at it to learn from growing up. Not for the first time, he thanked his good fortune that his mother had kicked Kurt to the curb eventually. “I buy the buildings, then.”

“And…?” Between two bites, Moira waved him to go on.

“I rent to them at reasonable rates, because I might think like a villain here, but I ain’t one. Which reminds me, do I ask my accountants to pull the stats on all my properties first? Just to make sure I don’t already rent to any charity or community center like an investment shark?”

Moira nodded vehemently. “Absolutely.”

“Anything else you’d suggest, my socially woke mentor?”

“Hm, depends, how much property do you own in the city?”

Charles told her. Moira’s eyes bugged.

“Fuck me, Charles. ...well, I’d suggest making sure you have at least some affordable apartments on offer? Take lots from the rich, take less from the poor, if you will.” She shook her head. “Fucking hell, Charles, I sometimes actually forget just how rich your dad was. How rich you are.”

Charles shrugged. “It’s not like I advertise it. I’m glad you do. You’re a great friend for that.”

~~~

Moira did come up with a second plan the following monday. She sauntered into his office, officially to present Charles with the latest progress of her team’s main project. But the moment they were behind closed doors and alone, she divulged what she’s come up with during the weekend. Charles had no doubt that she’d sought the input of her not-a-boyfriend-boyfriend and then reworked it to something actually achievable. Charles had met the guy once, there was no way he could come up with a plan with this complex need for compromise. His main saving grace was his charisma, when you didn’t count the other good points of him that Moira kept mentioning.

“That’s… that’s a lot, Moira,” Charles said when she was finished detailing her plan. “And a lot of work to pull off on the sly. I think that will make quite a few people very angry, too. I’m not entirely sure…” He tapped his fingers on the smooth wood of his desk. “Hm.”

“Charles, I can see your wheels turning. What’re you thinking?”   
“It’s too much for me alone, but I think, I know just the guy to help.” Charles smiled. “How do you feel about the morning off tomorrow? I’d like to take you to a party tonight.”

~~~

“WHAT IS THIS PARTY?” Moira yelled at the top of her lungs over the hammering music. All around them, barely dressed people writhed and gyrated in tune with the music. Charles himself was completely overdressed, wearing slacks and a dress shirt open just one button further than he would at the office. It was so ridiculous Moira had laughed at him when she’d seen it. “WHO ARE WE EVEN LOOKING FOR?”

_ Patience,  _ Charles told her telepathically. He was pushing his way through the din toward the VIP section. One glance at the security, paired with a brilliant smile, and they were admitted. Moira breathed a sigh of relief. The music in the private section was not as loud as it had been on the dancefloor. One could actually have a conversation here.

“CHARLIE!” someone screamed in delight. A moment later, Charles was wrapped in an enthusiastic hug. He sent Moira a feeling of reassurance when she moved to knock the hugger on his ass. Then, he returned the hug.

“Tony,” he beamed when he pulled back. “May I introduce you to my friend Moira MacTaggert? Who, if I recall correctly, Stark Tech tried to poach no two months ago? Moira MacTaggert, meet Tony Stark.”

Dumbfounded, Moira shook the hand Tony offered her while babbling, “I’ve heard so much about you. You’re a brilliant geneticist. But of course I will have to tell HR that any friends of Charlie’s are off limits for poaching. Unless you want to work at Stark Tech, of course. No offense meant by the offer.”

“None taken,” Moira got out. She smiled. “I got something out of your attempts. The engineer you sent is a dish.”

Tony laughed at that, just as Charles had hoped he would. Leave it to Moira to break ice. No matter how close he had Tony had once been in boarding school, they hadn’t exactly kept in touch.

“So, my friends.” Tony had slung an arm around Charles’ shoulders and was guiding him over to the bar. “What brings you here? You don’t exactly look like it’s for the party.”   
“I’m here to talk to you, Tony,” Charles replied. Tony was ordering them some colorful, non-alcoholic drinks. “I thought a party might offer the necessary privacy.”   
Tony’s eyebrows shot up.

“In a moment,” Charles assured him. He motioned to an empty booth. Only when they’d all sat down did he continue. “You still have good contacts to politicians in town, right? I need help. And I think you’re the best option for this help.” He took a sip of his drink. “I’m meaning to go into lobbying.”

“Lobbying?” Tony repeated.

“Lobbying,” Charles confirmed. “Not, you know, the kind our dads did back in the day. I was thinking more of housing reform.”

Tony blinked. “Wait, waitwaitwait, housing reform?” He had trouble closing his mouth and his eyes had gone a little unfocused. “You’ll need so much lobbying. That’ll lose so many rich people so much money, we’ll need to spin this from the start and even then that’s a giant risk. What’s the plan?”

Charles beamed. “Fundraisers, for a start. A media campaign as you suggested. Online and in print. We’ll ignore TV, too expensive for too little influence. They’ll pick it up eventually if enough papers run our spin.”   
“And some good old blackmail, too, I’d say,” Tony smirked. “Damn, you actually have a plan already. I can picture it, you, telling the Senators and the Major to their faces ‘if you want to ever get elected again, you go along with it’. You’ve been holding out on me, Charlie. I thought you’d only get involved small scale if you did get involved at all.”

Moira raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, didn’t he tell you that he secretly supports almost all mutant charities and community projects in the city with money and networking opportunities?” Tony leaned back with a satisfied smirk. “I’ve been keeping tabs.” Then, he winked. “And a very angry birdy in the form of one of my best engineers told me.”

“Ah,” was all Moira offered in response, even though she was now smiling, too.

For a moment, Tony stared at the ceiling in contemplation. “Ok, I’m in. When do we start?”

“Tonight.” Charles responded, suddenly putting his hand over Tony’s. He leaned in closer, looking Tony in the eyes all the time. “I want you to come home with me.”

Tony swallowed. “What?”

“I’d rather have people think we’re dating than the truth,” Charles whispered. He licked his lips. He hadn’t been this close to Tony since his last day at boarding school. He just hoped time hadn’t snuffed out all the old embers yet. “Come home with me, Tony.”

Tony didn’t respond. His eyes shifted for a second as if he was looking for a way out, before he gave in and kissed Charles. It made Charles’ lips tingle and his chest constrict, just like the first and up to then only time. “It’s for a good cause,” Tony whispered when he pulled back. It was as much reassurance for himself as for Charles’.

~~~

Having Tony stay over regularly was tortue. It did have its intended effect, sure. The gossip sites and yellow press rags were full of stories and paparazzi shots of the two of them going out to eat or Tony leaving Charles’ building or Charles entering Stark Tech for “a quick lunch date, or more???” as one particularly raunchy gossip blog had put it. But Charles was starting to think he’d rather have some truth behind it. The most they did was kiss when they knew there were cameras pointed at them. Tony didn’t even try anything to live up to his playboy reputation in private. Neither did Charles, however, so he felt a little hypocritical begrudging it when Tony once again slept in the guest bedroom.

At the same time, their lobbying efforts apart were going swimmingly. Tony and Jarvis had written a couple of twitter bots with enough variance and just enough artificial intelligence not to be spotted easily. Moira was using her ties to local activism to get actual people engaged. Charles was talking to journalists he knew, most of the mutants, some of them ones he’d given a no strings attached grant before. He wasn’t asking for favors. He just talked, caught up, mentioned the rising rent costs, and let it sit. When he was feeling less subtle, with papers he didn’t know anyone at, he just dropped housing market statistics in their anonymous mailboxes and adding some raw data Tony had hacked from somewhere for good measure. 

It wasn’t long until the first tentative reports broke. Soon followed by longer reports on the currently trending topic of housing that had all of twitter in rows. When the first in depth reports on the skyrocketing housing and rent prices dropped, the tv news picked the stories up and ran with it, just as planned. 

It was at that point that Charles had all but moved into Tony’s guest room. No, rather, it was at that point that they both arranged a fundraiser separately. Tony was using his contacts to the Republicans, old ties from back when he was still selling anything a military would dream of. Charles didn’t have as extensive ties, but he knew enough important Democrats to convince them he was meaning to not only make a sizeable donation but also help them meet more people who’d be interested in doing the same.

They had timed their fundraisers to be at the exact same time. It meant that they got ready together. Or it would have, if Charles hadn’t gathered his clothes when he realized that Tony was stripping right in front of him like a frightened maiden. He hated himself all the while he got changed and then hated himself even more when Tony looked at him for a moment before putting on his sunglasses. 

“Let’s go,” Tony said curtly.

Charles opened his mouth, but Tony had already turned away from him. He reinforced his mental shields. He didn’t need to pick up the waves of disappointment from Tony, even accidentally.

At least they didn’t have to share a car, Charles told himself on the back seat of his limousine. At least after tonight, he and Tony could part ways again and pretend this had all been a charade. At least now Charles didn’t have to wonder what it would be like if Tony made the first step again when they had actual time for it. What it would be like if Tony would just kiss him, not for a ruse, not as goodbye, just because they could and wanted to.

Charles leaned back with a sigh. This was as much his fault as Tony’s, maybe even more so. But realizing that didn’t help change the past. So instead, he needed to focus on the task ahead. If they’d managed for the night to be a success, both of them, they’d leave a mark on the city for good. People’s lives would change for the better for decades if they could just pull this final step off. So, all he had to do now was pull himself together. He could do this. He’d been raised to socialize and get his ways.

~~~

Charles collapsed face first onto his couch when he was finally back home. His home. Even though the throw pillow he was hugging smelled faintly of Tony’s aftershave. His feet hurt. It was almost four a.m. and his throat hurt from talking. His head hurt, too, from having to be around so many people for such a long time without even getting to drink any of the champagne on offer. He had promised Tony not to touch any alcohol. He’d also promised his mother and broken that promise a couple of times before but it was different promising it to Tony.

His phone rang and he ignored it. He didn’t want to move, ever again. Or at least not until he’d slept for at least twelve hours. 

The ringing stopped briefly, only to be replaced by the sound of incoming messages. The insistent sound of incoming messages. Charles groaned as he rolled over enough to reach his phone. He groaned again. The messages were all from Moira. All of them were in caps. The call was from her, too.

Charles turned off his phone. 

He dragged himself off the couch and into the kitchen for coffee. While he waited, he turned his phone back on. The evening had been good. Very good, even. They might actually succeed in lobbying for new legislation to protect renters. He still felt like he’d made a big mistake.

The messages from Moira were:

  * CALL ME
  * NO BETTER YET CALL HIM
  * CHARLES
  * I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU
  * CHARLES CALL HIM
  * CHARLES CALL HIM OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL DRAG YOU TO HIM
  * STOP PINING
  * HE’S PINING TOO SO MAN UP
  * CHARLES IS2G



Charles closed his eyes. He felt like he was about to faint. Worse, he felt like he was stepping off a cliff with a mug of coffee clutched in both hands. There was only one way to find out if he could fly or would hit the ground, hard.

His fingers shook a little as he pulled up the phone book to make the call, leaned against the kitchen counter for support. 

It took to the third ring for Tony to pick up. 

“Tony?” Charles felt like he was squeaking a little. He hadn’t been this nervous in years.

“Charlie?” Tony sounded like he’d been woken up. “Is everything alright?”

“I… yeah… I… I just wanted to hear…” Man up, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Moira’s came into Charles’ head. “Listen, Tony, do you… you do still remember that last day… last day at boarding school? And… I know I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have run away like that. Sorry, sorry for rambling. But… back then, I was just so confused. I thought I’d never see you again. And I… I really liked you. I really like you. Still like you, that is. I… sorry. I’m sorry for… dumping this all on you, I guess?”

There was no response. Charles waited. Waited longer than he was comfortable. 

“Tony?”

“I… Charlie… uh, that’s a lot,” Tony stuttered. “Can…” He cleared his throat. “Can I get back to you about it tomorrow?” He hung up.

Charles buried his face in his hands. It was worse than he had thought. He could neither fly nor hit the ground. He’d hit water and was drowning. 

  * I hate you
  * He’s getting back to me about my confession
  * I am such an idiot
  * Thanks Moira



After firing off the texts, Charles dragged himself to bed. He was asleep before he hit the mattress.

~~~

The alarm of Charles’ phone went off at an ungodly hour. Or that was what Charles thought when he blindly reached for his phone. He hadn’t even put it on the nightstand. It was ringing somewhere next to him on the bed. He simply pressed accept without even looking at the caller ID.

“What?” His voice was raw and raspy from too little sleep and too much talk the night before.

Somebody cleared his throat on the other end of the line. “Charlie? It’s me. Tony. I… Sorry about last night. I tried to call you right after, but…” A brief pause. “I’m so so sorry. Can I treat you to brunch today? To make up for it. And… and as a date. Because I meant it back then and I meant it every time since and I have no idea what I’m doing, either, Charlie.” Tony laughed. “I dunno anything about serious relationships. I was terrified. I’m still terrified. But I know I want it. With you. So please, Charles Xavier, do you want to turn our PR relationship into an actual relationship?”

Charles laughed. Laughing was better than crying. He wiped tears from his eyes. “On one condition, Tony,” he got out eventually.

“Yeah?”

“Come over right now. I know you can let yourself in, you complained about the security enough.” Charles smiled. “I can’t wait to see you.”

He could tell Moira about the development. He probably even should. But that could wait until after brunch. He pressed his phone to his chest, feeling fifteen again.


End file.
